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15 March 2011 @ 11:18 pm
Why Mimes Don't Wear Stilettos  
Title: Why Mimes Don’t Wear Stilettos
Genre: Crime Thriller
Pairing: KiHyuk
Rating: PG13
Summary: Kibum has been chasing this murderer for years. And he lands on his best bet at catching him by accident.


Every breath that rushed out of his lungs burned as he ran, pushing pedestrians out of his way. Back in high school or in the police academy, smoking was just the thing that everyone did, and no one thought about what consequences it might have later. Kim Kibum hadn’t touched a cigarette in years, but the feeling of breathlessness, like someone had welded metal bands around his lungs, it was so familiar.

But he pushed the thoughts to the side and forced his legs to keep moving. Because it was a matter of life and death if he stopped. Detective Kim had been working on this case, chasing a serial rapist and murderer, for the better part of three years, and against all odds had caught a glimpse of the man as he tried to abduct another woman. Chasing him through the streets of Seoul with other detectives and police officers, nothing was going to stop him now. Certainly not a stupid mistake he had made as a kid.

He could feel the sweat soaking his hair, running into his eyes and making his dress shirt cling to his skin. He brushed his bangs out of his face and plunged on through the crowd, catching a glimpse of a baseball hat there, the surgical mask the man used to hide his face there. And Kibum was gaining on him, to the point where the crowd hadn’t swallowed up the space that the man made as he forced his way through.

They burst out of the rows of vendors and into an open park. The crowd was thinner, and could see the men running – the suspect, followed closely by Kibum, with other officers trailing behind and trying to keep up and shouting into their handheld radios. Fewer people to slow the suspect down. Fewer people to hide him from Kibum. He was wearing a dirty looking leather jacket meant for colder weather, Kibum could see now. Everything about him screamed wrong, now that Kibum was getting a better look at him. Maybe not the best glance, but Kibum was getting used to knowing the freak. They would be spending many long nights in the station together.

He could hear cop cars in the distance, rushing to surround the park. The suspect crashed into a snarl of people standing around in the central part of the park, where several paths met, and knocked over a woman standing with her children in his haste. Kibum nearly jumped over her, refusing to slow down even the slightest and give the suspect any sort of advantage. He had him, he almost did, he just needed to go a little faster –

That was when about a hundred and fifty pounds of well-muscled police officer crashed into an unsuspecting mime. Both Kibum and the mime tumbled to the ground, Kibum scraping his hand on the pavement as he tried to twist away before he could crush the man. His knee smacked against the pavement, and he barely noticed, jumping to his feet and scanning the crowd.

No baseball cap. No surgical mask. An ugly brown jacket discarded on a nearby bench. The thrill of the chase, the promise of finally catching the man who had made his life hell and who invaded his nightmares melted away into ugly, black anger as the other officers ran up. One of them helped the mime to his feet.

Kibum ignored them, still looking desperately around the crowded park for anyone who seemed to be in too much of a hurry, anyone who looked a bit off. But there was nothing.

His phone began vibrating, and he wiped his sweaty, bloody hands on his pants before pulling it out, surprised it even worked. There was a large crack across the screen as he flipped it open. “Detective Kim.”

“Run, run, run, as fast as you can,” the voice said, before breaking off in cackling laughter. There was a beep, and then nothing as the call disconnected.

Disgust and frustration warred within him, but both feelings were directed at himself, so he didn’t think it mattered which one eventually emerged victorious. They were back to square one, questioning people and hoping for even a fragmentary description of the man they were looking for.


“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

Heechul looked up from wrapping Kibum’s bloodied hand, exasperation covering his delicate features. “You’re not an idiot for the reason you think you’re an idiot, though. Not that those reasons wouldn’t be totally correct, in this case-”

Whatever Kibum had been thinking – probably something along the lines of ‘why do I work with this man?’ – must have shone on his face when he looked up at Heechul, because the other man snapped, “Tearing yourself apart isn’t going to help anyone, especially not if you’re doing it literally,” clasping the injured hand in a way that would have been friendly and supportive if it had been anyone but Heechul, and if it had been whole. “Next time, have the medics check it at the scene before you come crying to me. I work with dead things, remember?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Ya! Young people these days,” the coroner muttered before stalking off to his lab. Heechul had been waiting at the door when he heard they were bringing in another victim, a grim expression on his face that had sagged in relief the moment they helped the crying woman out of the squad car.

Donghae was with her now; he was better at being emotional and supportive, and didn’t put people off like Kibum knew he could. The Kibum Effect was well-known around the department. Half of anyone they brought in burst into tears and confessed everything that they did, even if they weren’t a suspect. This wasn’t always a good thing – no one needed a witness bursting into hysterics the moment someone entered a room to get their statements. Kibum didn’t think he was that scary or intense. Outside of work he considered himself a fairly normal individual. His friends were mostly normal, and he spent his nights reading, watching television, or playing video games.

Donghae had explained it once as a vibe he gave off – “It’s not like anyone thinks you’re going to kick puppies or hurt them or anything. It just feels like you already know everything there is to know about a person, and there’s no point in hiding it.”

At the time, Kibum had told him it was stupid, and childish. But all the same, he started keeping away from the emotionally compromised witnesses. That meant he was watching Donghae sitting in the interview room from behind a tinted window. He opened the door to the sound booth where a technician was recording the interview, filled with many pauses and stifled sobs. “I just keep remembering watching the news and seeing those women, and thinking what would happen if it was me. What would my parents-” The woman’s words were cut off by another sob. “It could have been me. I could be dead right now, and my family-”

“But you’re safe now,” Donghae was saying. “We’ll be placing an officer with you to make sure you’re protected. You don’t have to worry about him coming after you ever again.”

“But that guy was a psycho!” the woman sobbed. She was dressed in a skirt and suit jacket, a lawyer who had just gotten out of a meeting with a client. Kibum picked up the manila folder sitting by the bored-looking technician, leafing through it. Not a trial lawyer – her firm dealt with mediation of fiscal disputes and the like. There were pictures, too. Just printed off, of the injuries she had sustained. Her face had been blotted out. She had nearly refused to give her testimony in the first place, saying she could lose her job if anyone found out what had happened.

The woman was still shaking and sniffling, but her actions spoke more and more of anger. She reached down and started tearing at the buckles of her shoes, kicking them off and across the room, to hit the wall with a thump. “’Such beautiful shoes, such shapely legs,’ the man was disgusting! I’ll never wear heels again.”

Kibum was not a connoisseur of designer fashion, but the shoes looked familiar, similar to others he had seen all too recently on the bodies of other dead women. Donghae must have noticed it, too, because the next thing he said was, “Do you wear them often?”

The woman crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “Does everyone have a shoe fetish today? Yeah, I wear them. I have to dress like a man and act like a man in everything else to get people to listen to me, but at least I can wear shoes and still feel like a girl. God damned bastard-” She broke off whatever she was going to say next, her eyes narrowing. Maybe imagining what she would like to do with those shoes if she ever got her hands on the man. Not every victim wanted to fight, but a proactive person who wanted revenge could be just as dangerous to the investigation. People who went looking for trouble usually found it, and landed on Kibum’s desk in the middle of his already massive workload.

Donghae could handle the rest of the interview. He’d get the shoes to the forensic department. Kibum already had what he needed for now. He stuck a picture of the woman’s shoes into his pocket and left the dark room.


“Alejandro Ingelmo.”

“You’re sure?” Kibum had barely taken out the picture, but the store clerk nodded vigorously, prepared to defend his answer.

“I remember selling them, too,” Zhou Mi said, his expression falling from confident to distraught in a matter of seconds. “$650 USD. Classic Black. She’s not dead, too, is she?” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Kibum glanced up from the picture, watching as the well-dressed man fidgeted behind the counter. He wasn’t supposed to discuss ongoing investigations with civilians, but the man had lent his expertise to the investigation on numerous occasions, and was on his way to losing his business because of it. “Not this one, no.”

Zhou Mi let out a long breath, mumbling something in Chinese before saying. “You don’t know how glad that makes me. I just want this all to be over. I’ve been thinking about closing down for a while. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“If you did that, the investigation would really have to start all over,” Kibum said, putting the picture away. “Your store is the only link we have.”

For a long time, the owner and proprietor of the little designer boutique was the primary suspect in the string of murders. Kibum had interrogated the man, bugged his house, and nearly ruined his business and reputation in an attempt to solve the case, all to find out that he had been after the wrong man after all. Hidden video recorders set up in the man’s apartment both provided an alibi for three separate murders and told Kibum everything he never wanted to know about how flexible the tall Chinese man really was.

The fact of the matter was that Zhou Mi liked shoes – not women, not violence, and not blood. All three of those things could be found in various amounts at the crime scenes.

The police department had issued an official apology, and even offered to pay some restitution, but Zhou Mi had refused it. Kibum didn’t really think the man had forgiven anyone, and certainly didn’t want to make friends with any of them. But his desire to help was sincere.

Kibum watched as the store owner puttered around at the computer, downloading the security footage for the police to review. “Hopefully you’ll see a lot less of me soon.”

Zhou Mi nodded, though he looked as if he wasn’t sure he should be happy about that. “With any sort of luck.”


After a few days, the flurry of activity surrounding the near capture of the murder suspect died down. Kibum returned to the park for lunch one day, sitting on a bench to watch people as they went about their business. There were a few picnics on the green areas, and joggers passing by with headphones dangling around their necks as they talked with one another, and a group of school children laughing at the mime who had been performing there the day Kibum had lost the suspect.

Kibum wasn’t quite sure how to go about recognizing a mime – the makeup looked a bit different from the previous day – but he figured he could recognize the same thin shoulders, and the hair slicked back beneath the hat. Then the man moved the same way, too. It wasn’t just the fact that he was a mime – his expressions were covered in thick make-up to accentuate them, but it all moved the same way. Some things people just couldn’t hide.

Like the fact that he was pretty clearly favoring his right arm. The children were still delighted by the man’s antics, but once the teacher herded them past, the mime let out an overdramatic, silent sigh that seemed to completely deflate him, as he walked over to the bench, and sat down next to Kibum rather expectantly.

All without saying a word. For a moment, Kibum wondered who had interviewed the mime. He knew someone had to. Everyone they could stop at the park had been questioned at least briefly for any description they could give, and a mime was sort of hard to hide.

“Are you looking for an apology?” Kibum was starting to feel like his life was spent saying sorry to people. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, I’m sorry but its part of an investigation, I’m sorry for making you public enemy number one, I’m sorry for messing up.’

The mime shrugged, reclining against the bench. His expression was open. Expectant. And Kibum had no idea what to do. “You at least had your arm looked at?”

The mime didn’t nod, but instead went right into a routine – he was apparently a doctor, sticking a stethoscope in his ears, and listening to his arm. After a moment or two, he mimed grabbing his arm and breaking it over his thigh like a twig. Kibum didn’t think it was very funny, but the mime was beside himself in silent laughter. Ok, and maybe Kibum laughed a little, too once he got over the shock of being made fun of by a mime, but it was still very not funny.

The conversation, or what passed for it, eventually drifted off as Kibum’s mind went back to the case, trying to think of where the suspect could have escaped to, or going over what else the victims had in common.

He was apparently so lost in thought that the mime was getting impatient. Poking a coin insistently at his forehead was easy enough to translate – ‘a penny for your thoughts?’

Kibum waved him off, scooting a little further away on the bench. The Mime mad a good show of looking scandalized. “I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation with – how did you even give your statement?”

The words felt stupid the moment they left his mouth, seeing the other man smile. The Mime was silent as part of the job. The man could speak if it was absolutely required, but until then, he played charades to annoy people like Kibum. Because that was how the world worked.

“Have you seen any suspicious characters hanging around lately?” Kibum looked his companion up and down. “Besides yourself?”

‘Why, I ever,’ was another expression that was easy to read, as the mime crossed his arms and looked away.

“You’re kind of obnoxious,” Kibum said, standing up and meaning to walk away. But of course the mime would follow him, walking beside him like he belonged there. Not with the long gait of a man intent on following someone, but up on his toes, with his hands clasped behind his back, almost weaving as he walked. “What are you even trying to do?”

But his questions were never answered – the actions of the mime just became more and more girly as Kibum walked back toward the subway that would take him back to work. He twirled an imaginary parasol. He walked in imaginary heels. He pretended to spin in his imaginary skirt. And when Kibum finally crossed the street to the station, he waved an imaginary handkerchief at him, because apparently mimes couldn’t cross streets.

Kibum had to stop himself from waving back. It was kind of annoying and embarrassing, but the mime had been amusing, and had taken his mind off of things long enough to be able to jump back into his case with renewed vigor.

He couldn’t be too angry.


Halfway to the Police Headquarters, he got a call from Donghae, giving him an address. The killer had struck again.


Donghae’s expression was grim as he pulled off plastic gloves and the shoe covers they had to wear at crime scenes. Grim wasn’t an expression common to the man, and it was certainly one that didn’t look like it belonged. If Kibum really wanted to dissect what was going on in Donghae’s mind, he would say it looked more like the man was trying to stop himself from being sick.

“Hey, man, your eyes are kind of red,” a technician said, smacking Donghae on the back before walking back to the crime scene.

“Allergies,” Donghae mumbled after him.

Donghae didn’t have the constitution for this job. But given a long enough trajectory, no one really did. They got to a certain point where they were in over their heads, and they knew it was time to quit. Or they were made to quit. Donghae was a cop because his father was, and he was a good officer, a loyal friend to have at your back.

Blood and violence and human depravity were not something he was built to understand. Kibum didn’t really think he was, either, but sitting back in their car and letting out a sigh, the analysis was almost second nature. “He’s angry. We saved one, and now he wants to tell us that it doesn’t matter.”

Donghae only nodded, still looking out the car window and away from Kibum.
Kibum could have said something about how that meant the man was unsettled, and would start making mistakes, but those words were empty. How many more people would have to die before those mistakes added up to something substantial enough to bring this case to a close?

Kibum considered reaching out, shaking Donghae’s shoulder, getting him out of his funk, when there was a knock on his window. He sighed and opened the door for Heechul to lean in. He held up a clear plastic evidence bag with designer shoes in them. “The particulate analysis will tell us more, but there was some mulch and leaves stuck in here that are a visual match to what we’ve found on the other bodies. He’s still taking people from the same place.”

Kibum resisted asking ‘How?’ It was the question he had to answer.


Kibum didn’t think he would find himself back at the park so soon. There were more interviews to do, and more evidence to go over. Despite the fact that this was his lunch hour, he wasn’t here to relax. On the way back from interviewing the newest victim’s parents, he passed the park and had something of an epiphany. One that probably wouldn’t pan out, but something he had to ask.

He waited for the mime to finish a performance or get tired of annoying an old man who had come to feed pigeons, whichever one it was. And then the mime pranced over, back in his female persona. Kibum decided he would ignore that.

“Acting like a woman is probably dangerous, since this is the area all the women were abducted from,” Kibum said, keeping his voice even.
The mime looked genuinely shocked for a moment. Not overdone or dramatic, just what would be normal for a normal person who didn’t dress up in striped shirts and suspenders. “Does this mean I need a lawyer?”

“You’re not a suspect,” Kibum replied. The man’s voice wasn’t quite what he expected. Kibum hadn’t actually braced himself for hearing the mime speak at all. He sounded more . . . uncertain than he had expected.

“Then, I mean, why tell me all this?”

“How often are you in the park?”

“I’m not going to lie. It sounds kind of like I need a lawyer,” the mime said, backing up a little.

“Listen, you might be in a position where you could have seen something, or someone. Even if you didn’t know to recognize it for what it was, it could still be helpful. So how often are you in the park?”

“A couple hours each day. If I don’t have class or work, I’ll come here and try to earn a few extra bucks.” The mime’s expression was still guarded – god, he was having a conversation with a mime to try to solve a case – but he didn’t look like he wanted to run away quite as much.

“What do you study?”


“That’s actually . . . that’s perfect for what I had in mind.”

“How? It’s not like acting can help a cop.”

Kibum had taken out his wallet as the mime was speaking, digging through it for his business cards. “If you come in to the station, I’ll detail the rest of the plan. Whenever you have time.”

The mime was chewing on his lip as he stared at the card. “I have class right now, but. . . .”

“No, that’s fine. I’ve got some things I need to prepare, too. Just whenever you have time,” Kibum said, and turned to walk back to his car. It wasn’t until the doors were closed that he pulled out his phone. “Zhou Mi? I have a bit of an odd request. . . .”


“This is definitely dangerous,” Donghae said, spinning back and forth in his chair. “And probably illegal.”

Kibum didn’t disagree. The plan was dangerous, and probably stupid. It was Donghae’s way of saying, nicely, that he was probably getting too involved in catching the man. It was why they were sitting, waiting for Hyukjae (Kibum had finally found out what his name was) to get off of school. Most people had to put in extra hours at the station, so it wasn’t unusual at all to see them sitting at their desks.

What was more unusual was that Zhou Mi was with them, sitting in an extra chair and tapping his foot. He’d notice, and stop, but then the other would start bouncing moments later. It was no surprise the man was nervous. He couldn’t have had any happy memories about the department. Couldn’t have, but Heechul loved him, and had apparently assigned one of his interns to be the man’s servant for the afternoon – Kibum couldn’t think of any other reason that the kid kept bringing him coffee, then seemed to have raided the dispatcher’s doughnut stash (so vast that no one would miss it. At least, not much). The kid also looked like he needed to raid someone’s stash of facial scrub, but Zhou Mi wasn’t complaining, so Kibum wouldn’t either.

“We’ll just wait until Hyukjae gets here and see what he says,” Kibum replied. “And I talked to the captain. He said . . . well, he said it was an idea, which is better than anything else we’ve had recently.”

“And I don’t disagree,” Donghae replied. “It just seems like there’s a lot that can go wrong.”

“And there’s no guarantee that it will work, either. I mean, the guy seems methodical. There’s a lot of things you have to do right to pull off-” Zhou Mi realized that both of the officers were staring at him and closed his mouth, turning an interesting shade of pink. “I’ll be quiet.”

“You’re the only one who knows anything about what we’re trying to do,” Kibum said. “If you know anything, we probably need to hear it.”

“What are we trying to do?” Kibum looked up at the sound of the voice. Without the mime costume, Hyukjae looked like any other college student, standing back a ways, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“Kibum wants to dress up as a woman so that he can bait the serial rapist into trying to kidnap him, and your job is to tell him what a terrible idea that would be.” Donghae’s word vomit covered most of the important points, except for Hyukjae’s job. And his partner did look genuinely worried. Kibum could understand it. But Kibum didn’t want to make a civilian do it, and there wasn’t anyone else in the department that would know who to look for. Maybe he was putting a lot of stock into his few glances he had caught of the man as he was being chased, but it really was their only option.

Hyukjae seemed to take the information in for a moment, staring at Kibum. Then he laughed. He laughed for a few minutes, actually, having to lean on one of the empty desks to support himself as he laughed, and then eventually moving to sit down when the giggling wouldn’t stop. He covered his face with his hand, shaking his head as he began to calm down, and finally looked back up at the conspirators.

“Oh, God, you’re serious!” Mirth had been replaced with anxiety. “You know there’s no way that works, right? I mean, I’m assuming you brought me in because you want acting lessons, but there’s more to it than that.” He was talking a lot faster now, words tumbling out of his mouth as he tried to argue against the idea. “There’s this vibe you have to have, and- You’re just staring at me, and it’s really uncomfortable.”

Kibum’s eyes flashed to his computer, but then back to Hyukjae. “I’m sorry?”

“No, but that’s exactly what I mean! Your aura is too overpowering. Or something.” Donghae was nodding vigorously in agreement. “There’s no way it works. Even if the man you’re looking for is blind, there’s just no way.”

“He get’s it,” Donghae said. “Listen to him, if you aren’t going to listen to me. We don’t have any actual women who can do it. It was a good plan, but it won’t work right now, so we need to try something else.” He turned his puppy dog eyes from Kibum to Hyukjae. “Thank you for your help. We’re sorry for wasting your time.”

“Well, I mean, you know it’s not like you don’t have anyone who can do it,” Hyukjae said, fidgeting in his seat and pulling his satchel into his lap, almost using it as a shield.

Donghae and Kibum shared a glance, and then both turned to Zhou Mi. The man shifted in his seat uncomfortably and mumbled, “What about Heechul hyung?”

“No, actually I was going to say . . . .” Hyukjae trailed off for a moment, before clearing his throat and continuing, “My class did a version of Taming of the Shrew where we cast everyone as opposite genders, because we didn’t have enough men to fill the male roles, but we had plenty of women. Everyone said I was the best Katherine Minola they had ever seen, including our professor, who studied on Broadway.”
Zhou Mi nodded, considering. “I could definitely see that. And if you had a longer wig to hide the sides of your face,” he said, gesturing toward the side of Hyukjae’s head.

“That’s all very nice,” Kibum interjected, trying to stop the line of thought before it could get too far, “But involving a civilian is what we were trying to originally avoid. There’s a better chance of seeing the captain dress in drag than signing the two of you on.”

“That’s funny, because I’ve seen your captain at one of the Transgender clubs my last boyfriend worked at,” Zhou Mi mused. “He looked better before he started working out.”

“Well, we’re already involved, and even a female cop is going to get made if the guy is as smart as everyone is saying,” Hyukjae replied. “This is just the kind of thing that I do. So hook me up with as many tracking devices as you can manage, and we’re practically open for business.”

“I mean, you’d need the right dress, too,” Zhou Mi added. He rolled his chair closer to Hyukjae’s, so that they could collaborate easier. “A club dress, so shorter, but with enough flare or ruffles that it’ll hide the lack of curves and the package, and shoes! Kibum-ssi, can I?” Kibum nodded mutely, not quite sure where to find his voice. When it had been him, he hadn’t had so many qualms. It was his duty, his penance for failing to catch the man the first time. “It hasn’t been released to the general public, but the killer only attacks women who wear certain designer shoe labels.”


The dress the two eventually found was perfect. Ruffles on the bottom to hide what needed to be hidden, and in a baggy sort of style. The collar came up all the way to cover the chest (or lack thereof, but both of the new resident experts assured them that was something that could be fixed). The only thing they would have to worry about would be the adam’s apple, but with a good enough wig and bad enough light, Zhou Mi assured him that anything was possible.

Kibum and Donghae kept out of it. Once permission was granted, there job was essentially to watch and wait. They decided that Kibum would be the one to accompany Hyukjae, on a ‘date.’ It was the ultimate challenge to the killer’s authority, feeling collected enough to bring someone on a date in the middle of his well-defined territory.

“Zhou Mi brought the shoes,” Kibum said, walking into Hyukjae’s living room. The man had opened the door, and Kibum did a double-take. Smooth legs. Not hairy man-legs. Travelling up into, well . . . everything about Hyukjae had been softened. His shoulders looked thinner without a t-shirt to cover them, or the striped mime shirt to make them look any wider. Between Zhou Mi and Hyukjae’s theater department, someone had found fake breasts.

Face. Look at his face.

Hyukjae was halfway through putting on his makeup, so one eye was very smoky and dark-looking, and the other was not.

“Yeah, just set the box on the couch,” Hyukjae said, retreating back into the bathroom.

Kibum followed his directions. Sort of. He sat himself on the couch, and the box in his lap, and did his best to think about old ladies in nursing homes.


The club was hot, and full of crazy people who moved like they were having seizures. Getting drinks was a nightmare of wading through those people and then paying an arm, a leg, and one’s firstborn child, so Kibum also figured that there would be no problems with staying sober and prepared for anything.

What Kibum was not prepared for was Hyukjae’s hand on his thigh, as he shouted, “Relax!” over the pounding bass.

Kibum was not going to relax. Not as long as there was possibly a serial killer in the vicinity, as long as there might be other victims to worry about, as long as there was any possibility of the plan not working, as long as Hyukjae’s hand stayed where it was.

Kibum was glad the bar was so difficult to get to. Otherwise, he would have been trying to drink himself into oblivion. Hyukjae pulled him onto the dance floor a few times, headbanging and bouncing around to a few songs in such a way that he had no idea how the long wig didn’t fly off.

They be actin’ like they drunk . . .

Hyukjae was really good at acting like a drunk girl, giggling obnoxiously and climbing all over him, and getting a little floppy, so there was a lot of ‘accidental’ inappropriate touching, that was totally appropriate to the setting and the general atmosphere of the club. But there was also a lot of Kibum imagining the very male body beneath the female disguise, something he was not drunk enough for. Not at all.

‘Start getting ready to leave.’ Donghae’s voice crackled through the ear piece. ‘The timeline for the previous abductions is approaching.’

Kibum didn’t make a reply. He figured a little acting wouldn’t hurt. It was what he had intended even before Hyukjae got involved. The man was sitting nearly in his lap, swaying maddeningly to a slow song. Not paying attention. Might even miss what Kibum was about to do.

He bent down to Hyukjae’s bare shoulder, kissed it, and trailed his lips up to Hyukjae’s ears. “We need to get going.” He imagined the shudder that sent through Hyukjae. The man was training to be a performer. It couldn’t have been real.

But it was the perfect time to leave. After the rush of people trying to get in. Before the rush of everyone leaving. Kibum would leave his tipsy ‘girlfriend’ to find her own way home. That was the plan, and it was looking less and less attractive as the evening went on.

They stood, Kibum with a protective arm around Hyukjae’s shoulders, and they bypassed the dance floor, the bar, and the bouncer who nodded and wished them goodnight.

A little ways beyond the entrance to the club, Kibum stopped Hyukjae, and turned the other man-woman-creature to face him. “Maybe I should walk you home.” This was a really bad idea.

Hyukjae laughed, still using his falsetto, and punched him in the shoulder. “You have work in the morning. Worry about that. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s nothing to drop you off. I mean, I have a car-”

“You’re a cop! You can’t drink and drive,” Hyukjae laughed, turning on his designer heels and wobbling a little as he walked off. Hips swaying maddeningly. Kibum watched him go, but had to keep himself from following. There were squad cars and under cover cops on every block for the next few miles around the club. Hyukjae would be safe. He would be. There was no way the killer would get far. If he got anywhere at all. He might not even be out tonight.

Kibum turned. He had to get back to his own car. Be prepared for the call.

That was when the shot broke the silence.

He hadn’t even completed the turn before he sprinted back in the direction Hyukjae was headed. Saw a form crumpled on the ground. Pulled out his own firearm but couldn’t, for the life of him, see where the shot came from.

And on the sidewalk, in bright, sprayed-on lettering, was written, “You honestly thought that was good enough?”


A/N: THAT WAS SO LONG. AND IN ONE DAY. /slits wrists. Cereal, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is as follows: I just want to be a normal boy. JK, I just wanted to see your face when you read that, as revenge for taping faces on the pushies. Your actual prompt is as follows: Ale-Alejandro, Ale-Alejandro.
cereal_strawzcereal_strawz on March 16th, 2011 03:24 am (UTC)
You try and make it sound so fun with your "Crossdressing mimes this way!"

There is no more happy.

Poor Eunhyuk... nothing seems to be going well for him today.
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 03:34 am (UTC)
Nothing. At all. DX We'll make it up to him tomorrow.

Well. Sort of. My plans for tomorrow are evil, but decidedly less angst-ridden.
lady_hanaka: kangteuklady_hanaka on March 16th, 2011 03:26 am (UTC)
It is Zhou Mi. Zhou Mi is the rapist/killer. He wants Kibum and he'll take out anyone who gets in his way, including helpless mimes.

Also...damn Zhou Mi can write fast! Look at him with his threats (and probably written in Hangul, he must have spent so long studying it to get it just right!). Or did he have that strategically written there before he shot Hyukkie? It doesn't matter.

Wonderful story as always. Yous is the best out of the three for the night. Well, who knows about Cereal's, but I assume yours still winds. We'll find out about hers tomorrow. XD

Also, the plushies look hella good with their taped on faces! XD
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 03:36 am (UTC)
You might find out if it's Zhou Mi. After this week. Because I'm not finishing it right now. But I will tell you this - Kibum isn't who the killer is after.
lady_hanakalady_hanaka on March 16th, 2011 03:44 am (UTC)
Sure it's not Kibum. You keep telling yourself that Stormy.
astormisbrewing: And that's how Sue Sees itastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 03:50 am (UTC)
Hm, no, I'm quite sure. If Zhou Mi is the one killing the women, and he hs the shoe fetish, why isn't he taking the shoes, and who is doing the raping? Is it the pimple-faced intern? Is it Heechul? Donghae? Someone we haven't mentioned yet? Hyukjae himself might be in on it. You have no idea. I might not, either.
lady_hanakalady_hanaka on March 16th, 2011 04:18 am (UTC)
I know all. Zhou Mi doesn't want the shoes because they've been worn by disgusting females. The person who has been doing the raping, well, wouldn't YOU like to know? I do. I know all.

astormisbrewing: evil plots work out for meastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 06:35 pm (UTC)
Just keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night.
lady_hanakalady_hanaka on March 16th, 2011 08:01 pm (UTC)
The only reason for my lack of sleep is you and Cereal moving around so much. Damn me for being such a light sleeper...XD
rayneweatherrayneweather on March 16th, 2011 04:27 am (UTC)
WAIT, WHAT?? THAT'S THE END???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *rips hair out in frustration* How could you kill Hyukkie??? Why can't they catch him?!! Oh, Heechul as the medical examiner was awesome. I loved your characterization of Donghae, too. But I can't believe you left it there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*demands a sequel* I'm going to plop myself down and camp out here until you write another one. *pouts*

Just kidding, it was just a very abrupt ending, one I wasn't expecting.
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 12:41 pm (UTC)
Lol, well, I was daydreaming about writing a sequel. I always make Heechul a brainy person. Psychiatrist, political satirist, concert musician, medical examiner . . . he just lends himself to the quirks of the job. That, and I have a lot of respect for the man. :/ Odd way of showing it, maybe.

So thanks, overall. :) Abrupt endings make things interesting.
sujuhappinesssujuhappiness on March 16th, 2011 05:01 am (UTC)
OMG.... you weren't kidding when you said this story was going to be darker... god... the last scene... Hyukie... why... is he really and truly dead?

why do evil people have all the lucky shots and the good people hit random areas that don't end up eliminating the eeevil?
astormisbrewing: evil plots work out for meastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 12:44 pm (UTC)
Lol, the only thing I really haven't thought about with how it ends is whether or not Hyukie died. I know who did it, though. :D

Because good people are too good to want to use lethal force and bad people practice more. :P 'Good, Bad,' I like exploring these stereotypes. I like making people on the side of good that the idealists hate but who get the job done like an evil person. :D
ckat09ckat09 on March 16th, 2011 05:46 am (UTC)
wait wait...
is that the end?? and...i really can't form a single sentence to say.
the ending is just horrific. did hyukjae die?
and..they hadn't even caught the killer yet!
i want to know who it is...is there a 2nd part? :P
well, i'm still hoping that there is!!
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 12:47 pm (UTC)
Wow, I'm made someone speechless! That's the first time that's happened. This was actually the most fun to write . . . so there might be a sequel. No one is opposed to the idea, apparently, but we'll just have to see how it all works out with school.

I don't even know if Hyukjae is dead or not, though. But I do have a pretty good idea of who shot him. So . . . things too look forward to?
na ireon saramiya!amaelamin_ on March 16th, 2011 09:31 am (UTC)
i loved this.
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 12:48 pm (UTC)
Yay! I'm glad. :D Thanks for reading!
Pretentious McBoobies: Super Junior - Eunhyuk [yeah baby]lightly on March 16th, 2011 03:06 pm (UTC)
Poor, poor Eunhyuk.

I really liked this!
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 06:18 pm (UTC)
This round was just so cruel to him. :(

But thanks for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
pight or plightpinefir on March 16th, 2011 03:40 pm (UTC)
i really thought the mime was the killer though. i mean hyukjae...but yeah i've got nothing to support my lameass theory. so :\ and he's after zhou mi. or shoes.
or idk.

and i love this kiyhuk week you guys are having :3
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 06:22 pm (UTC)
I wrote this story without ever actually deciding who the killer was. I know now that I've started plotting the second part, but there were lots of hints and things because it really could have been anyone, in my mind. I wanted to keep the possibilities open so that I could end it the way I wanted to. >.> Which turned out badly for poor Hyukjae.

But until around 11:49 Eastern Standard Time, I had no idea who the killer actually would be. It could still be Hyukjae, for all you know. He could have shot himself, or had an accomplice. It could still be Zhou Mi, with an accomplice. There are still so many players in this. But I guess you'll find out who once I write the second part.
Sook Kwan LoongSook Kwan Loong on March 16th, 2011 05:57 pm (UTC)
please say you'll do a sequel to this. im dying to know how things worked out @.@
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 06:24 pm (UTC)
That's become more and more my intention as the day progressed . . . I'm kind of in love with this story. So yes. I promise I'll write the next part. But I can't promise when you'll see it. Probably not until Kihyuk week is over, and it might have to wait until after my school is don organizing for Tsunami Relief, since I'm practically running that. >.>
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 06:34 pm (UTC)
*helping to run that. Cereal and Lady Hanaka and several other wonderful people are involved as well.
Shy_Mizunoshy_mizuno on March 16th, 2011 10:07 pm (UTC)
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 16th, 2011 10:36 pm (UTC)
I will! I promise! XD
Gemcatskilt on March 18th, 2011 03:51 pm (UTC)
This is really creative and well-written, I like the whole set-up of the police and the mime and the crazy criminal! And I think you characterised them really well. The only complaint I would have would be the really sudden ending ;___;
astormisbrewingastormisbrewing on March 18th, 2011 08:23 pm (UTC)
Thanks! Cliff hangers are just my life blood. . . . But thank you for reading!
km_kaba: Against the wall bumkm_kaba on August 13th, 2011 03:18 pm (UTC)
OMG! THAT WAS SO INTENSE AND AMAZING! Love KiHyuk's interaction! It's flirty and teasing but also deep and dangerous~

Please please please put up part 2~♥
aile_chan on July 16th, 2012 05:20 pm (UTC)
Oh my God. This is just amazing! Please put up part 2!